


1084

by Bonymaloney



Series: Fighting It At Every Turn [8]
Category: The Outer Worlds (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Claustrophobia, F/M, Max can have little a violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reconciliation Sex, Rough Sex, Spoilers for the SubLight questline, as a treat, now illustrated!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:47:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22745764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonymaloney/pseuds/Bonymaloney
Summary: The station is freezing and the lights are flickering. Every time another guard approaches, he has to pause and duck back down a corridor or step into an abandoned sideroom. The coveralls he is wearing offer barely any protection; and if he were to let his rage take hold of him and run at them the way he wants to, they would kill him easily. But if he is caught, they will take him back to Tartarus.
Relationships: The Captain/Maximillian DeSoto
Series: Fighting It At Every Turn [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1629799
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

The Captain can never simply carry out a mission and leave. Max has the cartridge with the system override in his pocket, and it will take him a matter of moments to install. But while SubLight’s definition of legitimate salvage may include hacking into abandoned research stations, Pearl’s interpretation involves looting everything that isn’t nailed down first. They gather food and spare parts, then make their way to the laboratories in search of medical supplies. 

“What is it with these abandoned satellites and people losing their minds?”

Max is inclined to agree with her. The pursuit of science can be both beautiful and terrifying; and the scene before them is definitely more of the latter. The relay station was one thing, but that was the work of a solitary madman. Whatever this is, there are some serious resources behind it. Figures hang suspended in cloudy fluid, frozen at the moment their organs began to fail. He shivers. 

The name of one of the scientists is familiar from Cascadia, and he points it out to Pearl. The mystery is enough to distract him from the smell of static and old blood, but it doesn’t last. 

_“Shit!”_ Pearl kicks against the bulkhead. She had used her most persuasive tones, dropped SubLight’s name, but it was to no avail. Now the satellite is being boarded, with no hope of escaping back to the Unreliable. Max feels the hairs at the back of his neck prickling against his collar. He is lightly dressed, as is the Captain. They were expecting salvage work, not combat. He still has his shotgun though, and she her sword, to deal with any vermin they may encounter. 

He raises his weapon and racks it, but Pearl places her hand on the barrel and pushes it down towards the floor, her eyebrows raised.

“We can’t fight our way out of this,” she says quietly.

“We have to!” 

Max is not prone to claustrophobia. While he prefers the stability of life on Terra 2, he is a man of the world, perfectly comfortable with space travel and orbital stations. But then again, he’s always been free to leave. With one notable exception - and best not to think about _that_. No, there’s simply something wrong with the lighting here, making the corridors feel small and narrow and full of dark corners. The air is cold and stale. He is suddenly, immensely aware of how thin the carbon steel is between them and the freezing death of the void; and how easy it would be for the gunship to strip it away. It’s _infuriating._

Max’s chest is tight, his skin crawls, but he remains rational as he states his case.

“We should attack them now, Captain. While we have the element of surprise.”

“They already know we’re here!”

To be hunted down at his enemy’s leisure - he can’t fucking stand it. His jaw clenches, his fingernails dig into his palms. They are trapped and their only chance is to fight, why can’t she see?

Embarassingly, before he can stop himself, he moans between gritted teeth, and Pearl frowns. She ducks into a store cupboard, pulls him behind her. 

“Max, I’m scared too. But I need to think, and I can’t do that if I have to watch out for you going off all violently enthusiastic.”

“Well black fucking holes, if I’m supposed to die angry and unenlightened then I might as well just get things over w-!”

Her hearing is a little better than his, and she presses her hand to his mouth. His eyes widen in outrage, but a few moments later he hears it too, the tread of an armoured UDL trooper passing their hiding place. When the footsteps fade, she releases him. 

Her breath is hot and intimate against the shell of his ear. 

“The security terminal, the first one; where we powered down the mechanicals. Can you reactivate them?”

“I’m sure I could,” he hisses back at her. “It’s hardly a challenge!”

“So make them attack the troopers.”

She bends and begins to unlace her boots. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to sneak as far as I can in the opposite direction and make a bunch of noise to distract them. That should give you a clear path to get through.” He opens his mouth to protest and she silences him again. “Trust me, Max.” 

Her fingers trail across his lips, and then she’s gone. Max kicks his own shoes off. He can’t fight and he can’t run. He has to move silent and unseen through the tight steel corridors. 

A few moments later, there is a sudden burst of feedback from the main speaker system, and he hears Pearl clearing her throat. 

_“Who knows? Auntie Cleo knows… Better than nature!”_ Max grins despite himself. She was Auntie’s woman back on Earth, he knows that. 

The off-key singing is followed by staticky voices and bursts of gunfire. Max is light headed and his limbs feel heavy, but he knows he has to move. His breathing sounds impossibly loud to him as he steps into the corridor, his pulse pounding in his ears. He tries to take a cue from the Captain. OSI hymnals are complex and frankly not particularly rousing, but then another familiar chant slips easily into his head.

 _We. Are. Hephaestus. Hammers._

He tries to time it with his breathing and his footsteps. The station is freezing and the lights are flickering. Every time another guard approaches, he has to pause and duck back down a corridor or step into an abandoned sideroom. The coveralls he is wearing offer barely any protection. If he were to let his rage at being trapped take hold of him, and attack them the way he wants to, they would kill him easily. But if he is caught, they will take him back to Tartarus. He wants with all his heart to charge at them, to lance the fucking uncertainty before he bursts with it.

Nevertheless, the Captain and the crew are depending on him. So Max forces himself to persist, painfully slowly, towards his objective. 

_We! Are! Hephaestus! Hammers!_

He lets himself into the security office. Unlike the cold steel corridors the floor is carpeted, and as his feet cross the threshold a sense memory assails him. Approaching the altar, barefoot and bare headed, the first time he was anointed. 

A single trooper stands guard, and praise be to the Architect, he’s looking towards the other door. Max bares all of his teeth. 

_WE! ARE! HEPHAESTUS! HAMMERS!_

Afterwards the trooper is lying in a crumpled heap, and Max’s heart is light, his mind feels clean. The terminal yields before him in a matter of moments. He activates the automechanical security, makes them forget friend from foe. And thank the Law for UDL technology, none of that Spacer’s Choice crap, because while the cruiser is docked with the station he can also make it power down its life support systems from here. Alight with his own cleverness, he charges towards where the sounds of battle are loudest. Score one for violent enthusiasm. 

As he bursts through the door, shotgun in hand he sees Pearl raise her sword, slicing through a drone that hovers a little too close to her for its own good. The irritating thing falls to the ground, neatly bisected. She follows through with the momentum, swinging the blade down around and up again until it embeds itself in the armpit of a high-ranking corporate trooper. The corrosive coating eats through the armour and the man screams until he stops. Pearl pulls free and stands over her prey, her chest heaving and her face flushed. If Max had to build a sculpture to celebrate the pure concept of survival of the fittest, he thinks, this is what it would look like. He wants to fucking _ravish_ her. 

The corporate commander herself enters the room, and Max and Pearl raise their weapons. Together, they are unstoppable. 

They are both trembling with barely suppressed eagerness as they make their way back to the Unreliable. Pearl grabs him by the wrist as soon as they step out of the airlock, leads him behind her to her quarters. Max has an erection that feels like he could cut glass with it, and he is pleased. To the victor go the spoils; and the Captain deserves nothing but the best. They fight each other’s clothes off, cling together without an atom’s worth of space between them. He kisses her over and over, traces his fingers along her collarbone to the bruise on her upper arm. There are more bruises on her ribcage, three round ones in a little cluster of gunshot. Max fixes his teeth into her other shoulder, licks and bites. He should be the only one allowed to mark her. 

His hand slides down, seeking entry into her cunt, which is wet and eager to receive him. He fucks her with his fingers, and she grinds against his palm, her breath coming sharp and fast until she clenches around him, shaking and digging her nails deep into his back. He keeps her braid firmly clasped in his other hand, tilting her head back so that he can watch her face as she comes for him. 

Pearl takes his hands, kisses his knuckles where the skin is bruised and broken. She draws his fingers into her mouth and sucks, holding his gaze; then sinks to her knees and takes the tip of his cock between her lips. He can see her cheeks hollowing as she looks up at him with mischief in her eyes, and it’s hot and wet and utterly exquisite; but it’s not what he wants. He holds her still, allows himself one rough thrust, then pulls her to her feet. 

“Together,” he gasps in her ear, pushing her before him until she’s pressed up against the window of her cabin. She arches as he leans into her, bracing herself with one hand against the glass. The other grabs his thigh and digs in so hard he can feel it bruise. 

“Max, _yes_...” she moans; the sweetest sound, and he can only groan wordlessly in response. He runs his hands down her body, the strong muscles of her back, the warm swell of her breasts, her nipples like little pebbles. He captures her with one hand pressing on her sternum, forcing her back against him, the other gripping her hip. Giving him the control that she needs to lose and he desperately yearns to take. He breathes the scent of her hair and tastes the salt of her neck as he takes her, slow and hard, relishing the way she resists and then yields to his stiffness. His skin slaps against hers with every thrust. 

The vast expanse of space spreads out in front of them as he fucks her up against the window, and it’s utterly exhilarating. Each star represents infinite possibilities, with the void looming between them to swallow those who choose the wrong path. With Pearl he has escaped the research station, escaped Edgewater, escaped all certainty about the course his life was destined to take. He doesn’t know if anything will ever be enough for him again. His heart is bursting with the way she makes him feel, but he hasn’t got the breath or the words for it. 

“The stars, look at the fucking _stars_ ,” he manages, and then pleasure overwhelms him and he ruts helplessly, chasing the sweetness of his release until he spills into her, shouting in triumph and delight. Breathless, they cling to each other, holding each other up. Max isn’t looking at the stars any more, now he looks into her eyes. 

The Captains bunk is just wide enough to accommodate them lying side by side, sweat cooling on their skin as they bask in the afterglow. Pearl hooks her leg over his, a familiar gesture, and one he likes a lot. It’s affectionate, a little possessive, and it leaves him free to talk with his hands. 

“Can’t believe I left my boots behind,” she grumbles after a while. 

“I expect that with our payout from Ms Hagen you will be able to replace them. Who knows, maybe even two pairs?”

“It’s the sentimental value...”

“Sentiment has no value,” he pronounces, and she laughs at him, even though it’s true. 

“They were the first ones I got when I came to Halcyon.”

“Ah, yes, the ones you killed that marauding bastard for.”

“I did not!”

“Correct me if I’m mistaken, but you killed him and took his boots?”

“I killed him cause he was trying to kill me; and I needed boots and he… didn’t, anymore. But I didn’t kill him _for_ them, that’s different.”

“Semantics, Captain…” 

Intent is always her primary consideration, even when the outcome is functionally no different. It’s fascinating. She elbows him, and Max can feel himself smiling. Conversations like this are what he’s missed, playful and serious in equal measure. Pearl is possibly feeling the same way, as she turns and positions herself to look him in the eyes. 

“This works, Max. This could work. I just… next time you want to use my ship to carry out a secret murder mission, I need you to tell me, ok?”

“That’s… entirely reasonable.”

Max rubs at his jaw without realising he’s doing it. In his experience, Pearl processes her negative emotions through violence or humor; and he would much prefer being on the receiving end of the former. It would make him feel less ashamed. 

“I can assure you, I currently have no agenda, hidden or otherwise. In truth, I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do.” It is the truth, and just saying the words aloud creates a sensation within him that’s almost like vertigo.

“Felix asked me if we could go to Scylla. He wants to look up his old crew, I think. While we’re there, we could try and find your hermit lady. If that’s still what you want.”

Pearl is watching his expression closely, and after a moment she begins to idly tease her fingers through his belly hair.

“That’s very pleasant,” he says, and she grins. If he were ten years younger, he thinks, he might do something about it. 

“How about we dig a little deeper into this chimera thing?”

“Science and intrigue… it does sound like something out of a serial, doesn’t it?”

She frowns. “I need to know more. That terminal entry, about using human prisoners for their… could they really be doing that?” 

To him it’s the least shocking aspect of the entire affair. “The inmates of Tartarus are a drain on society. Furthering the cause of science is one way they are able to contribute.”

Her hand stills. “That’s disgusting! Don’t you think… I mean, _fuck_ , Max, that could have been you!”

“In my case, of course, they would have been making a mistake.” 

She rolls her eyes and turns away, but she doesn’t ask him to leave and he counts that as a net positive. He can feel her relaxing into the space between him and the wall, the heat of her body, her slow deep breathing. To sleep beside someone, particularly someone who may have a slightly excessive fondness for violence, is a statement of trust more powerful than any other in his experience. 

Before he turns in, Max makes his way back to the orbital station. Truth be told the place still sends a shiver down his spine that has little to do with the temperature; and he forces himself to step disdainfully overall the corpses of troopers and mechanicals alike. He finds the maintenance closet where they had hidden. The Captains boots are still there, and he retrieves them. He places them outside her cabin; briefly considers leaving a note, but decides against it. 

He wouldn’t want her to think he was getting sentimental.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Absolutely awesome art that I received from Red Squirrel as part of an exchange; I love it! Thankyou so much

**Author's Note:**

> Coming soon...
> 
> Max: I am never going back to Tartarus!
> 
> IASIP-style title card: _The Gang goes Back to Tartarus_


End file.
